Pages

Tuesday, April 9, 2019

April Poetry Month - Day 9 - Special Characters



            Continuing with ideas from the book. This time, "Special Characters".

             Remember to share:


Tabatha Yeatts has created a link to poems teachers and librarians can print for poetry month, titled "Poetry in The Halls". I'm grateful to be one of the poets!

Jama Rattigan has a post HERE with many poets' goals for April.


The Progressive Poem schedule can be found on the right!





           You may notice that I’m turning pages of a scrapbook in my mind, created of my time with grandparents, my early years in a small town. Most days of summer weather we really were shooed outside to mind our own business while the grown-ups minded theirs. I was a town kid and when two friends, Gary or Suzy, were gone, I read a lot or I visited neighbors. I wonder how many times kids today wander around looking for someone sitting on a porch to visit?  

            Porch Visiting

Her name is Lizzie Weimer, an old lady
down the street who sat the hours away
on her sagging front porch.
The weeds were winning the war in
the front yard, winding up and around 
the porch post. Paint peeled, gutters
held only by a pin or three.
Her hair was pushed back by a pin or three, too,
into a straggly bun.
I sat and helped her snap beans or shuck corn;
she gave me peeled potato pieces for a snack.
She told stories of the easiness of town living
compared to when she was my age,
the only girl, kept busy milking the cows,
washing the clothes of the men, 
with filthy stinking overalls(her words).
She’d laugh, say “Now, I’m here in town,
living a life of ease. Now, they’re gone.”
But then, she’d cry into her hankie.
I sat on other front porches visiting,
but learned more from Lizzie than anyone.
She showed me what I saw didn’t always
show deep-down truth.

Linda Baie © 


10 comments:

  1. What a vivid, poignant picture of Lizzie. The practice of visiting neighbors seems like a lost art these days, with everyone inside on their devices.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yes, I know, Jama. Also, it seems that fear plays a part, too. It makes me sad. Thanks for enjoying my poem about Lizzie.

      Delete
  2. What a beautiful picture you painted! SO sorry for today's children not to get to have these experiences. . Thank you for this sweet memory.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I know that you visited, too, a wonderful and fun time it was. Thanks!

      Delete
  3. This is touching in so many ways, Linda, and I enjoy your alliteration

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you, Jane! That Lizzie is locked in my memory. I hope somehow she knows!

      Delete
  4. This final line slays me:
    She showed me what I saw didn’t always
    show deep-down truth.
    There were mobs of children in our town, cousins and neighbors galore, so the only older people I ever visited were my grandmothers who told me family history and taught me useful skills, and maybe a bit of truth.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I know what you mean, I visited many relatives, too, but in town as a young girl, neighbors were there to welcome me and talk also. We learned from them all, don't you think?

      Delete
  5. I love this portrait. So specific in details, and then such a poignant ending. My sisters and I did the visiting neighbors thing too. We used to go next door and visit Gerri and Ken Jewell. I don't remember sitting on her porch, but I do remember her giving us cookies in her kitchen.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks, Carol, happy to hear your experience, too.

      Delete

Thanks for visiting!